To Sail a Darkling Sea

“I’m not surprised your father is interested in that,” Tom said. “Being a teacher as he was. I can handle pretty much anything you need taught.”

“I was taking Chemistry,” Sophia said.

“Analytical or experimental?” Walker said. “And I don’t know where we’re going to find a lab but I can probably gin up some doozy experiments with explosives.”

“Not on my boat,” Sophia said, laughing. “Where did you learn explosives?”

“I’ve been around the block a few times,” Tom said. “Let’s say that while a zombie apocalypse is my first apocalypse, disasters I’ve seen a few. ESL teacher is a somethingth career. I can and have taught a good number of classes. It will be an honor continuing your education, Ensign.”

“And we have a group photo op the day of the float,” Sophia said. “And I need to get ahold of my two new Division boat captains and actually meet them. They were somewhere in the crowd but there was no way to find them.”

“Which boats?” Tom asked.

“Negocio Arriesgado and Finally Friday,” Sophia said. “I don’t know either of the skippers. Rainey and McCarthy. Both civilians.”

“Should we just call it the Risky Business?” Tom asked.

“Probably,” Sophia said. “I’ll get up with them when we get back to the boat.”

CHAPTER 31

Once upon a night we’ll wake to the carnival of life

The beauty of this ride ahead such an incredible height

It’s hard to light a candle, easy to curse the dark instead

This moment the dawn of humanity

Last ride of the day

Nightwish, “Last Ride of the Day”

“Well, I can guess what people are going to call this Division,” Lillie Rainey of the Negocio Arriesgado said, taking a sushi roll from the tray. The skipper was above average height for most women, although shorter than Sophia’s towering sister, “well endowed” with fiery red hair that must be natural. The one real oddity was a tattoo planted squarely in her cleavage. So squarely most of it was invisible. All that was really visible were two wings. Sophia was mildly curious what the whole tattoo looked like but not so much as to ask her to, ahem, “spread.”

LeEllen McCartney of the Finally Friday was slightly shorter than Rainey, still taller than their “boss” with dark black hair shot with gray, dark hazel eyes and a figure that hinted she’d been at the least athletic before the Fall and possibly a female weight lifter.

Both were pregnant.

“The Pussy Patrol?” Olga said. “The Pregnancy Patrol? The Bun Brigade?”

“Ease, SA,” Sophia said. “Olga is my clearance specialist. And nearly entirely incorrigible.”

“Then we’ll get along,” Rainey said, grinning. “Trade?”

“Not on your life,” Sophia said. “She’s one of the few people I trust around me with guns.”

“Seriously, trade?” Rainey said. “I’ve got a security guy but I’m not sure I’d trust him to fight his way out of a paper bag. Don Knotts seemed more competent.”

“Which brings me to a point I need to make,” Sophia said. “Few points. The first is security of the boat. The security people are, technically, along for light clearance. Light means up to about a hundred foot yacht. If it’s a ship or a megayacht, that’s heavy clearance. Let Marines handle it.

“They’re also along for boat security. Most rescuees are grateful to be off whatever you’ve rescued them from and just want to get their feet back on dry land or even a larger boat. Some food, a bunk, shelter from the elements, they’re golden at least for a few days. You’ve both been there I take it?”

“I was on the Voyage,” Rainey said, patting her tummy. “What happens in the compartment stayed in the compartment. Except for my little bun. Just say I was quite thrilled when your father came along.”

“Same here,” LeEllen said. “I take it that’s not always the case.”

“Besides certain oligarchs that tried to jack my boat, I’ve dealt with, well, a lot of people,” Sophia said. “Most of them are great. Some of them aren’t. What happens in the compartment, stays in the compartment. Or should. Some of them think that they can keep acting like they did on the lifeboat. Sometimes they were ‘somebody’ before the Plague and try to order you around. Sometimes they can’t handle women as authority figures. That’s particularly the case with non-Western cultures but you’ve got idiots in all societies.”

“Amen,” Rainey said.

“Step on it,” Sophia said. “Hard. You’re the skipper, do not accept anyone’s shit. Not even an ounce. If you have the vaguest thought that there’s a real threat, go armed. Hell, go armed most of the time when you’ve got passengers. Keep weapons locked down or on your persons, with a lanyard or combat harness, at all times. Do not assume that the meek are not an issue. I’ve had people who were the ‘quiet’ one on a lifeboat go off. If the person cannot figure out that they’re back in civilization, even if the ‘civilization’ is a boat, lock them up, chain them down, tie them up, and call for pick-up. You can be as high-handed as you’d like short of shooting them. And you can shoot them if they become a real threat to your boat or try to grab a weapon. But do not let anyone subvert, undermine or, especially, overrule your authority. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” LeEllen said, a touch oddly.

“Got it,” Lillie said. “I’m all for going armed.”

“Skipper McCartney?” Sophia said. “Question?”

“No,” McCartney said, quickly then shrugged and sighed. “I didn’t have a question I was just… You’re… Some people think you’re an Ensign cause you’re your father’s daughter… ”

“Most I’d guess,” Sophia said.

“I’d heard from some people who worked with you, even before I got transferred to your Division, not to think of you as some regular teenager,” McCartney said, biting her lip. “Sorry. My daughter was not much younger than you… ”

“I’m sorry for your loss never covers it,” Sophia said, wincing. “We were lucky. Some of it was planning but a lot of it was luck.”

“My point was,” LeEllen said. “I couldn’t help thinking ‘Oh, God, teenage girl.’ I’m… sorry for that thought. It was not deserved.”

“It is, sometimes,” Sophia said, shrugging. “I’ve been doing this a while, though. Most of it is rote. The running a division thing will be a new experience. Which gets us to a few more points. Security… ” she looked at her notes. “Ah, we’re going to be back of beyond and we’re looking at a month’s float. Satellite imagery indicates some boats out there but we never know what we’re going to find. Watch your consumables. Fuel especially. The Pit Stop is going to be an oceangoing, well, Pit Stop for emergencies. It will be extremely embarrassing if the emergency is ‘Uh, I’m out of gas.’ I like you both and you seem like great people. Run out of gas twice without good reason and I’ll get you replaced in a heartbeat. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” McCartney said.

“Absolutely agree,” Rainey said.

“Food, water, fuel and a running engine,” Sophia said. “The Holy Quaternary of boating. But first and foremost are fuel and a running engine. All the rest you can fix easily if you can get from Point A to Point B. On the running engine… we’re just going to have to take our chances. We don’t have geniuses for engineers in general and we don’t have a real supply line for parts. If you find a boat that has parts, strip them. In fact, strip every boat